Rewind
by j3nnee
Summary: Neal seems to have forgotten his life with Peter and June. Happens After "Vital Signs" Some Whumpage.
1. Chapter 1

**Rewind**

**Neal Caffrey with Amnesia.**

**Some Whumpage.****  
**

**(Chapter 1)**

He stood across the street staring up at the huge mansion of a house on the corner. It seemed vaguely familiar to him in his current state, eyes blurring in and out of focus as he stood there in the cold evening air. It was nighttime so he blended in with the rest of the crowd in his _Rat Pack_ styled suit and _Frank Sinatra_ styled hat. He looked like he could have been clubbing somewhere upscale and had a bit too much to drink as he swayed slightly on his feet. Slowly, almost woodenly, he began to cross the street. Halfway a car stopped short of hitting him with a loud honk. He didn't even pause, continuing his shaky journey across the road towards the huge house. A few steps down the walk and he came to an entrance, a gated doorway from another era. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, pushing it into the door's lock and entering the home silently. The door swung quietly closed behind him and he continued his drunken stroll through a long hallway and into an open foyer that overlook a large dining room. He pulled the hat off his head, as he turned left, and placed it on the lower banister of the stairs, starting up slowly, methodically as if he were struggling to stay on his feet.

**(Discovery)**

The sound of heavy footsteps on the stair drew attention from the dining room where a figure stepped out and look around. It was June, a colorful shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She peered into the foyer and entrance towards the stairs. Nobody was there but she knew she had heard someone in her home. She walked over to the front door and found the door itself unlocked. She locked it with a wary glance and turned around again, heading back towards the foyer, and blinked up at the banister. She pulled a hat from the wooden post that hadn't been there before and glanced over it. It was her late husband Byron's hat and the one that her current boarder, Neal Caffrey liked. Her face darkened with concern especially after feeling something damp underneath the hat's brim. Upon closer inspection, she found it was _blood_. June's face paled and she replaced the hat on the banister, looking briefly at the stairs before she turned and picked up a nearby french-styled rotary phone. She dialed quickly, glancing up briefly at the clock with a worried glance.

"Elizabeth? I'm sorry to be calling so late. It's June. Yes, Neal's friend." She smiled slightly into the phone despite her obvious concern. "Is Peter around? It's very important I speak with him." June nodded to the phone waiting and then perked up as she listened.

"Peter? You might want to come over here. Please... I think something's happened to Neal. No... I can't say what, but I found blood on his hat. Yes... he's back. Thanks..." She hung up the phone quietly, turning towards the stairs. When she reached the top floor, she saw the door to Neal's room was slightly ajar and pushed it open, peering inside. She found the room as it always was, noting that the back terrace doors were closed and the room was dimly lit by one lamp. She crept into the room and peered to the left seeing a figure shifting under warm blankets in the large king-sized bed. It was Neal, a soft murmuring nearly inaudible escaping his lips. She approached him and felt at his forehead. He was warm but not feverish, brow and hair wet with perspiration and _blood_. She saw what looked like faint scratches on his face and bruises around his neck.

She clucked her tongue quietly. "Neal... what happened to you? Where were you?" She pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sat, holding one of his hands in hers.

Thirty minutes passed and June looked up as a quiet knock came from behind her. She turned to see Peter standing in the doorway peering in. He was dressed in worn blue jeans with a gray tee tucked in under his usual beige _Izod_ jacket. She stood and smiled, holding up a finger for him to be quiet. Peter made his way towards the two and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"June, what happened?" His voice was a barely audible whisper as he glanced over at Neal who restlessly shifted underneath the blankets. She gave a helpless shrug and put a hand on his.

"I don't know. He just showed up this evening after 2 days. I wasn't sure what to do other than call you. I know you were worried about him." Peter nodded back, moving closer to the young man and taking a good look at his injuries. He gave a sharp intake of breath as he saw the matted, sweat and blood damp hair along the young man's left temple.

"He's been shot at! This is more serious than I figured." Peter pulled the blanket aside and saw a small hole in the young man's blazer sleeve just below the shoulder. There was a little blood along the hole indicating a bullet graze from the markings. Burke clucked his tongue worriedly.

"He never removed the GPS tracker but it showed him as stuck in Central Park. I checked the records but never found any indication he was there when we looked for him. I don't understand this." Peter looked worried, glancing over the rest of the scratches and bruises obvious on the young man's body.

"Where did he say he was going when he left, June? Any idea?" She shrugged at him, her face worried in a motherly sort of way.

"He just told me he was going to see an old friend. I just assumed he meant Honeycutt." Peter nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking over at the young con. He noticed Neal had only partially undressed, his suit pants on the end of the bed in a pile. Peter pulled the trousers over, noticing slight discoloration and wear on them, and started to look through the pockets for any sign or clue to what Neal had been doing for two days in Central Park.

He had barely started browsing the pockets when he heard a loud intake of breath from June and the sound of a gun cocking. Peter turned slowly, hands letting go of the trousers as he came face to face with a pistol aimed at his head.

**(Lost)**

Neal didn't remember much of what had happened. He just knew he was somewhere that felt familiar, a soothing voice speaking to him in a motherly tone. He felt safe but still lost as if something was missing... He tried to sleep but it was hard to relax when his head throbbed with a pulse of its own, his body fighting to heal itself against some kind of trauma he couldn't remember.

He had been in The Park... that was all he remembered. Kate... something about Kate and then he was here. He was restless, unable to lie still, opening his eyes and seeing a man poking through his clothing. He freaked a little, recognizing the man before him as Agent Burke, someone he'd been running from for a while.

How had he found him? Neal wasn't sure what to do but he felt inside his jacket under the blankets and pulled something cold and metallic out. He held it shakily in his hands and pointed it at the agent. He saw Burke turn around and stare at him confused and frightened.

"Neal! What are you doing?!" The young man turned towards the voice to see a distinguished older woman, maybe late 50s early 60s, with a colorful shawl pulled around her sitting near him, her face looking at him with concern, worry and disappointment. He felt a strange pang of regret when he looked at her as if he owed her something. He blinked as a vague memory of sitting in the park with her popped into his head. 

_**Woman: "Byron liked the park for many of the same reasons."  
Neal: "You like bad boys, don't you?"**_

He shook his head at the flash of memory, gun still pointed at the agent as he tried to make sense of everything.

Where was he? The room was unfamiliar though not shabby, yet he felt a strange sense of being home. He could just make out a terrace beyond the agent with what seemed to promise a glorious view of New York. The apartment was basically a penthouse with styling from a past era. An eclectic collection of books lined the apartment shelves, the furniture stylish and upscale... it was a place he had often dreamed about getting with Kate. His mind was wandering around through all the possibilities when he returned to the present.

Neal stared at the agent again, gun pointed and cocked at the man threateningly. He never used guns but this was a rare case. Someone had been trying to kill him from his last heist and he had picked this up just in case. He hadn't really thought he'd need it but seeing the FBI hovering over him as he woke up was frightening enough for him to feel he had been justified in getting the weapon. Neal spoke firmly despite his fear and some guilt at having to use the gun.

"Agent Burke. Never thought we'd ever meet face to face. You almost got me at the museum that last time. Guess there's always a first for everything." He saw a puzzled look cross the agent's face as if Neal had just spoken in some foreign tongue. The agent kept his hands up where they could be seen, speaking in low tones, the puzzled look deepening on his face.

"Neal, you're hurt. Let me help you. Give me the gun and tell me who did this to you." Burke lowered his hands slowly, one reaching out palm up and open.

Neal blinked back at the agent wondering if he thought he was stupid or something. He shook his head and smirked.

"I didn't realize we were on a first name basis. I'm touched." The young man saw that the agent wasn't about to take no for an answer. _Give him the gun? Why would he do that, muchless let himself be taken in?_

"Give you the gun so you can take me in? I doubt it. Just hand me my pants and move away so I can be on my way." Neal waved the gun at the agent keeping his hand on the trigger and looking sideways at the woman. Her face was like that of a mother who just found out her child cheated on a test or worse. Something about her made him feel guilty. He couldn't understand what this feeling was, his attention suddenly stuck on her hurt expression as his mind tried to make sense of everything.

He kept seeing the scene in the park, both of them sitting and watching something, talking jovially. It was just a sudden flash but it made his head ache and his vision swim. Neal felt dizzy suddenly, consciousness slipping away. Without any warning, his body slumped and the gun fell from his hand to the floor. It went "_click_" as it fell but no bullet came out. He saw the agent blink, grabbing up the gun and checking it briefly.

"No bullets. Figures. Neal..." He saw the agent looking at him worriedly just before everything went black.

**(Confrontation)**

Peter watched the young man stare at June as if trying to remember something. Neal seemed confused about who they were if not where. He made mention of almost being caught by Burke at a museum but the only case that matched Peter's memory was one over five years ago when he was still hot on Caffrey's trail. Maybe the bullet graze to his head had caused some _amnesia_? It would explain his lack of recognition. Peter kept his hands up and open.

"Neal, you're hurt. Let me help you. Give me the gun and tell me who did this to you." He lowered one hand palm up and open, hoping the young man would hand him the gun but Neal was adamant.

"Give you the gun so you can take me in? I doubt it. Just hand me my pants and move away so I can be on my way." Peter watched Neal act like a different person, waving the gun at him dangerously but still looking at June's expression as if something about her was triggering his memory.

Peter didn't know what to do, reaching for the pants as the young man requested. He did not want to get shot or see June hurt. Besides, the GPS tracker was on Neal so they wouldn't have any problems tracking the young man, but how would he explain to Hughes that Neal had amnesia? Would anyone care that the con wasn't acting like himself... well his "current" self?

Neal didn't even notice Burke hand over the pants, the young man's eyes glued to June as his body suddenly slumped, hand dropping the gun, eyes fluttering closed. Peter saw the gun slip from the young man's hands and was ready to push June out of the way but the weapon hit the floor and went "_click_" without a report. It had been empty. Figures. Neal was the non-violent type.

"Peter, is he ok?" June had moved back instinctively as the gun fell to the floor surprised as the agent was that it hadn't gone off. She peered over at the Fed as he picked up the pistol and looked it over. He seemed relieved and surprised but pocketed the weapon, eyes moving over to the young man. His expression was clear as day, a combination of concern and disappointment. The agent obviously cared for the young man but this situation was worrying him more than usual.

"June? Do you have a first-aid kit?" She nodded moving away from the bed and out of the room.

Peter took the time to gently remove the blazer from the young man and place it along with the pants over the back of a chair near the bed. He took a few more minutes to examine all the various scratches and other obvious bruises. From the looks of it, Peter was beginning to think the young man had fallen or else been hit by something _blunt_. Under his white tee, Neal's chest was bruised and purplish indicating perhaps some broken or bruised ribs. Peter hoped for the latter, noticing other things like _abrasions_ around the young man's wrists indicating he may have been bound at some point. Whoever this _friend_ was he had gone to see, it had not been Mozzie and they had not been happy to see him. Peter turned as he heard June return with a large tacklebox of a medical kit. He smiled and took the box from her laying it on the edge of the bed.

"I'll get you some hot water and towels to clean up his wounds." June said as she moved over to the sink at the far side of the room and drew out a large bowl and some hand towels, filling up the bowl with hot water from the tap and bringing it back presently. Peter thanked her, dipping one of the small towels into the water and gently dabbing at the head wound on Neal's left temple. It wasn't bleeding much but it had left quite a bit of clots in the young man's hair which took some working out. Once he had cleaned it up and put some antiseptic on the area, he pressed some gauze to the wound and wrapped more gauze gently around the young man's head to hold it in place. He worked on the bullet graze on the young man's arm before he used the last of the large roll of medical gauze to wrap the young man's ribs. Neal really needed a hospital but he was afraid what would happen under his current confusion. If he ran, it would be worse if he were in a _public_ rather than _private_ place. June could watch him or Peter could just stay here a few days to be sure the young man returned to himself. He would have to let Hughes know one way or another. The agent sighed deeply.

Peter finished cleaning up and dressing all the wounds, closing up the tacklebox and rubbing a hand through his hair. June nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"He'll be ok. He might not remember now, but he will. You've been through too much for him _not_ to remember." Burke nodded at her looking lost at what to do.

"He seems more familiar with you than me. Probably because you're less of a "_threat_" to him than I was. People remember the good more than the bad but he does know me if only from five years ago." She gave him an understanding nod, glancing down at his jacket as it began to _buzz_. Peter fumbled in his pocket and found his cell phone. He glanced at the number and his eyes widened.

"El..." He moved away from the bed with an apologetic nod to June and walked out onto the terrace.

"Honey, yeah... we found Neal. I'll tell you about it when I go home. I might be here tonight though. I'm sorry. Love you too." He hung up the phone looking unhappy, brow furrowed as he frowned. He peered through the terrace door and saw June speaking softly to the sleeping form of Neal, her hand holding his.

Peter reached into his pocket and looked at the pistol he'd taken from Neal. It was empty, the clip removed and not even a bullet in the chamber. Neal had picked it up in his current state but hadn't intended to do more than use it as a ruse apparently. It didn't matter. If he'd had it on him when they'd been looking in the park for him the other day, agents wouldn't have thought twice about taking him back to jail muchless shooting at him. The thought made Peter shiver. Who was this mystery person that Neal had gone to see and why had it played out like this? Was this yet another attempt by Neal to do things on the sly and it went wrong or did this involve _Kate_ and _the music box_? It was hard to tell what was going on in the young man's life when he refused to reveal much of it to Burke. He wanted to protect and help Neal but things like this didn't help the situation. He sighed again more deeply, trying to think about what to do as he walked back inside and over to the bed where Neal lay unconscious.

"He's sleeping better than he was. Are you going to stay then?" Peter nodded at June somewhat apologetically and she smiled with a nod of her head.

"I'll bring you some blankets and a pillow for the sofa." Burke nodded thankfully, turning to look at the young con.

Neal looked just like a little boy when he slept, hair mussed, cheeks slightly reddened by exhaustion. The con wasn't a bad person but Peter knew he had to _curve_ as much of the young man's enthusiasm towards criminal pursuits to something more productive. He had hoped mentoring would help change things and in a way he felt he had made some changes to the con's attitudes. It helped that Neal himself did what he did not to hurt people so much as to prove to himself he could do something. To him it was innocent fun until something like this happened. He looked down at the young man and sighed again, speaking softly.

"If you remember nothing, Neal... remember that I'm here for you. Stay with June. She'll protect you." He squeezed the young man's hand gently and after a moment he thought he felt a _weak_ squeeze back. He looked at the young man for some sign but Neal remained asleep.

June walked in a few minutes later with some blankets and a large _fluffy_ pillow.

"Here you go, Peter. Did you need anything else? I was thinking of making some tea if you're interested." He shook his head, stifling a yawn. He had been ready for bed when she had called him up about Neal. El had been reading a book while he had been doing some last minute work on his laptop. June nodded and walked back towards the door.

"I'll let you sleep in unless you need a wake up call?" Peter shook his head.

"I'll call them in the morning and let them know what's going on. Thanks, June... for everything."

"Good night." June said quietly as he nodded back to her with a sleepy smile and she left, closing the bedroom door behind her. Peter moved back over to the chair and sat down near the young man, stifling a yawn and stretching as he leaned back sleepily.

It had been a long two days looking for and trying to figure out where Caffrey was. Peter had been busy with some cases that didn't involve Neal's expertise so he hadn't noticed right away that the young man was missing. It was his wife Elizabeth who made a mention of not seeing Neal since he had the bad habit of showing up on his days off and visiting with her and their dog Satchmo. If his wife was concerned something must be up. Her intuitions had been right in the past so Peter had pulled up the records for Neal's whereabouts and found that the young man had spent more than 24 hours in Central Park. It was within the young man's two mile radius for the anklet but being in the same spot seemed suspicious and odd especially with the current weather. He figured others had noticed so he went ahead and initiated a search for Neal but nothing had been turned up. That had been on Tuesday and now it was Thursday. Neal had showed up at June's by chance, beat up and barely conscious, his memories in the past.

Burke watched the young man sleeping, Neal's eyes fluttering some under closed lids, his lips moving in silent speech. After nearly nodded off in the chair, Peter stood languidly and made his way towards the couch, lining it with a sheet and putting the pillow on top before he slipped off his shoes and lay on top fully clothed. He pulled the flannel blanket June left over him last of all and with a quick glance over at Neal, the agent passed out into his own sleep-induced coma.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

Neal was dreaming...

**"**_**Mozzie said you wanted to see me?**_**" Neal whispered it out the side of his mouth as he bummed a cigarette from a well-dressed man in his 40s with wavy black hair, green eyes and olive tone skin. The man wore a long gray woolen overcoat like you see in a men's version of **_**Vogue**_** magazine, the hint of a well-tailored suit beneath along with fine leather loafers. The man passed a cigarette over to the young man and smiled slightly.**

"_**Yes, I heard you were looking for the music box? I may have some information on it for you.**_**" The man's voice seemed cold, kind of distant, his manner aloof. His accent sounded slightly European upon further scrutiny. Neal just nodded a thanks, taking a light as the man offered and puffing gingerly at the cigarette.**

"_**I might be. I guess you spoke to Alex?**_**" They stood there looking quite innocent and nonchalant. Nobody would guess they were friends, just two people sharing a smoke. The other man nodded slightly, his eyes looking around as he made to move.**

"_**She sends her regrets and her greetings.**_**" Neal turned and looked at the man curiously.**

"_**Where did you want to discuss this. There are eyes everywhere.**_**" The other man's tone seemed rather eager to leave the public eye, so Neal made a small barely noticeable motion towards a nearby gazebo, walking towards it with a brief nod to the other man. A few minutes later the man showed up. They stood there behind the railing out of sight, shaking hands in their new found privacy.**

"_**Rathe, I never thought I'd see you again!**_**" Neal smiled broadly and the other man smiled back.**

"_**Well, you know how much I love New York in Winter.**_**" Rathe grinned toothily revealing bright white teeth.**

"_**You look like you've done well for yourself, Caffrey. De Vour... excellent choice and vintage. The Feds must have you well kept as a pet.**_**" Neal pricked up at that, his expression darkening some.**

"_**So Alex told you about that. I told her I just do the occasional consulting while I work off my sentence.**_**" Rathe arched a brow up, his green eyes sparkling.**

"_**She said you were buddy buddy with the agent who caught you?**_**" The man clucked his tongue in a teasing manner making Neal blush.**

"_**He's fair to me. Trusts me. I don't want to cause any issues. I just need some info on the music box. Do you have it or not?**_**" Neal's voice had turned a bit more intense making Rathe hold up a hands and nodded placatingly.**

"_**I guess the person holding Kate requires it?**_**" Neal stiffened at the comment, eyes widening somewhat.**

"_**How...**_**" Rathe just shrugged.**

"_**I have my sources. So... shall we? I have a car waiting. How far can you go before your "tether" snaps?**_**" The older man pointed at the young man's anklet hidden under his suit. Neal looked surprised, as he glanced down briefly.**

"_**Not too far... and response time is under five minutes when I leave it.**_**" Rathe pointed to the right. "**_**Shall we?**_**" Neal nodded following the other man through the brush and saw a few yards away a long dark limousine.**

"_**A limousine... You come prepared. You always did like the finer things.**_**" Rathe nodded, the door opening up as they approached. "**_**After you...**_**" Neal looked at his friend and started in when he saw a gun pointed at his face from a large masked figure already inside the vehicle. The young man took a step back but felt someone blocking his escape. It was Rathe, his face not so nice now. The older man smirked cockily at the con.**

"_**Always so trusting, Caffrey. Shall we?**_**" Neal looked back at the masked gun man, his expression surprised but thoughtful despite his fear.**

"_**Yeah... I think we should.**_**" Neal suddenly reached back grasping Rathe by the coat sleeve and pulled the man towards him and around. The gun man looked confused trying not to fire as Rathe fell against the open door and Neal fell into a brief crouch and rolled out of the way. He was back on his feet almost immediately and took off at a fast sprint back the way they had come.**

There were two sharp reports behind him, the feeling of something hot hitting him on the sleeve and another on the side of the head, his neck snapping to one side hard from the force. His legs suddenly turned to rubber, he stumbled and Neal felt his vision tunnel to black as the grass came up to meet him.

Neal woke up with a splitting headache, his pulse racing, heart pounding in his chest. He panted, sitting up almost immediately. He'd been dreaming about something and the sound of a gun had woken him up terrified. The young man didn't immediately recognize his location but it wasn't the worst place he'd ever waken up in.

Neal lay in a luxurious king-sized bed with a fluffy white duvet and soft sheets. He wore just a tee and boxers but noted a vaguely familiar yet beat up suit and blazer slung over a nearby chair. He felt at his pounding temples noticing when he touched them his head had been wrapped with gauze as had his arm and chest. Everything hurt but he knew he had to move. Someone was after him!

He pulled the covers aside and started to gingerly push his feet over the side of the bed when he saw something else... A sleeping figure on the sofa a few feet away. The figure looked male with short brown hair and was curled up with their face away from him. Neal stood up as quietly as he could looking down only when he noticed something different... an anklet. He pulled up his leg to look closer, noticing a small green light blinking on it and the words "_GPS_" on the side. Neal blinked at the item wondering what kind of device it was when the person on the sofa rolled around onto their back and revealed their identity. It was Agent Burke!

Neal froze, holding his breath, unsure what to do. Why was the agent here? He looked back down at the anklet, figuring the Fed had put the item on him before giving it a thorough examination. In the end he could see no way to remove it without setting it off.

He quietly grasped a warm robe he found at the end of the bed on a hook and pulled it around him as he limped towards the sleeping agent and stared down at him. Something about this man intrigued him but he couldn't quite figure out what. Maybe it was the bump on his head speaking when Neal had a sudden image of the agent and himself enjoying a cup of coffee on the terrace. The idea of sharing a cup of coffee and chatting with a Fed made him want to laugh. Instead, Neal turned and looked at the terrace, walking over and opening up the ornate french doors and stepped outside.

The wind was crisp and cold despite the robe, his bare feet feeling the coolness as he stepped out onto the tiled balcony. He made his way over to the ledge and peered over at a 10 million dollar view of the city in the pre-dawn light that made him gasp in awe. He had a sudden pang of sadness wishing Kate was here with him. He thought about their small loft and wondered if she was sleeping right now.

"Beautiful view..." Neal turned at the sound of Agent Burke's voice. The young man stepped away from the ledge slowly and held up his hands automatically.

"I suppose you're here to arrest me? Thanks for tending my wounds. I owe you that much." He saw the agent blink sleepily at him, rubbing at his eyes and motioning finally for the young man to put down his hands.

"No, you're welcomed and don't worry about it. You'd have done the same." This time Neal blinked at him in curiosity. Agent Burke seemed far more friendlier than in their past meetings. Something was missing here and Neal wasn't sure what it was.

Neal rubbed at his temples as they began to ache again, his legs feeling rubbery. He leaned against the ledge, decorated with statuesque creatures from mythology, as the world seemed to spin drunkenly around him. He felt a strong hand on his arm and found the Fed near by, supporting him. They moved over to the wrought iron table and a chair. Neal slumped into the seat, head hung loosely between his shoulders. His breath came in panting breaths as he tried to hold onto consciousness. He peered at the Fed and tried for what he hoped was a thankful expression.

"Thanks. My head... feels..." He started to pass out but felt a light slap on his face.

"Don't fall asleep Neal!" The agent's voice was intense but more than that it sounded like he actually cared about he young man. Neal rolled his eyes slowly up to meet those of Peter Burke's and squinted. There was something he had to remember. Something important.

Neal heard the soft creak of a door and saw a face peek in from across the room. It was the woman from last night. He knew her... her name was a _month_? He tried to think as his brain grew more fuzzy, a mental fog descending on him as his vision began to tunnel out.

He heard Agent Burke talking to him as if from far away, feeling himself shaken slightly. A flash of memory came to the young man as his vision tunneled closer to black. 

**Neal:**_** (voice somewhat slurred) "Out of all the people in my life, Mozzie... even Kate, you know... you're the only one."  
**_**Burke:**_** "I'm the only one what?"  
**_**Neal**_**: (sounding a bit less slurred) "The only person in my life I trust."**_

Neal's eyes fluttered slightly as he fought to stay conscious. _He trusted the agent?_ Why would he have said that when this was the man chasing him? The young man stared at the agent as if from far away, his vision tunneled to a graying view of the world. He heard another voice, the woman's voice now beside him.

"Peter, what's wrong with Neal?" She sounded concerned and worried, her manner almost motherly but even more so than that. His eyes rolled slowly towards her, blinking as his vision seemed to gray out even more. He was losing consciousness despite his fight to remain awake. He gave a croaked sound, trying to speak. He saw Agent Burke... Peter looking down at him worriedly as he held the young man's hand in his.

"Neal... Neal... stay with us. June, call an ambulance!" She nodded and disappeared from his view as Neal saw the tunnel narrowing more and more to a mere pinpoint. He tried to speak again, his hand grasping at Agent Burke's weakly.

"Pe...ter..." He wasn't sure why he used the man's first name but it felt right.

"...I'm... sorry." His vision began to fade, his last view that of the agent calling to him.

**(Memory)**

**"**_**Yeah... I think we should.**_**" Neal suddenly reached back grasping Rathe by the coat sleeve and pulled the man towards him and around. The gun man looked confused trying not to fire as Rathe fell against the open door and Neal fell into a brief crouch and rolled out of the way. He was back on his feet almost immediately and took off at a fast sprint back the way they had come. There were two sharp reports behind him, the feeling of something hot hitting him on the sleeve and another on the side of the head, his neck snapping to one side hard from the force. His legs suddenly turned to rubber, he stumbled and Neal felt his vision tunnel to black as the grass came up to meet him.**

"_**Trying to run... tsk... Neal. You should know better than that.**_**" The young man heard the cocking of a pistol and winced as he felt the metal pushed up against the back of his ear. Rathe breathed into the con's ear quietly but with a menacing air.**

"_**What Kate ever saw in you...**_**" Neal felt himself tense up angrily, trying to turn and fight but feeling his arms twisted back hard as he tried. Rathe pressed a knee on the back of his neck making the pain more unbearable, as Neal felt his arms pulled securely behind him with what felt like plastic ties. The pressure was removed from his neck after a moment and he was yanked up by the collar and forced to his knees.**

Neal slumped, a hand grasping his chin and pulling his head up to meet Rathe's eyes. The young man gave a weak scowl which made the other man smirk.

"_**Always defiant till the end.**_**" Rathe let go, standing up as strong hands dragged Neal to his feet and pulled him back to the limousine. The young man was pushed inside the vehicle by the masked gunman while Rathe closed the door. He heard another car door further up opened and closed indicating his **_**friend**_** was not sitting with him. Neal lay across one seat limply while the masked goon sat across from him, his attention more on his phone than the young con as the vehicle took off.**

It was by chance Neal glanced up in his delirium and saw they were not too far from June's. It was a side street but they were still within his 2 mile radius. He looked to see the goon still glancing at his phone and keeping an ear to the darkened window behind him. Faint voices, one that sounded like Rathe's, could be heard.

Neal took his chance, hit the door latch with his shoulder and rolled out of the car before the goon had time to do more than blink. The young man bounced from the car, smacking into the curb and rolled back behind a nearby phone booth. The wind was knocked out of him as he lay there stunned, the high pitch squeal of tires burning rubber reaching him through the pain and shock. Neal turned his head and saw the goon walking towards him slowly as the few people around looked in surprise to see what was going on or scattered.

Neal had to really think about it, his body refusing to act at first but finally he was able to roll onto his side and then get himself up to his knees. The goon was only a few yards away now, Rathe peering out of the back of the limousine through a half-open window. Neal felt a scowl form on his face at the sight of his supposed _**friend**_** and that gave him strength to push himself to his feet and stumble in a half-lope down a nearby alley and towards June's. If he could just make it...**

He heard the cock of a gun and barely ducked behind a nearby dumpster, something _**dinging**_** the side of the metal box loudly. Neal could just keep himself up in a half-crouch, his head swimming, hands still bound behind him, his balance just a bit off.**

He heard the goon coming closer, footsteps loud on the pavement. The young man pushed himself as far back behind the dumpster as he could, fighting on slipping his hands from the ties so he could defend himself. He heard the cock of a gun from nearby as a shadow fell across his path.  


**(Worry)**

"Neal? Neal... wake up." The young man heard his name being called from a long ways off. He peered through the darkness blindly, seeking out it's source. The voice sounded familiar.

"Honey, you need to rest. Please..." Another voice had popped in, a woman's voice but not the same one he had seen earlier at the terrace. This one was a bit younger. He pushed through the mental fog and finally saw a faint light and headed towards it.

"Peter... get some sleep. You've been here for three days already." Elizabeth hugged her husband as he sat beside the hospital bed, his body sagging a bit, some stubble on his usually clean-shaven face. He shook his head wearily.

"I'm ok. He's my responsibility, El. I have to be here when he wakes up." She scowled at him, pulling his face towards hers and meeting his eyes. They were bloodshot and there were bags under her husband's usually bright brown eyes. He flinched a bit but met his wife's gaze.

"Come on..." She helped him up out of the chair and led him over to a nearby sofa.

"Lie down for a bit." Her eyes flashed at him as he opened his mouth to retort then he nodded and lay down on the sofa. She threw a thin blanket over him and Peter gazed up at her, stifling a yawn.

"Let me know when he wakes up?" Elizabeth nodded as she watched her husband fall immediately into a deep sleep, a soft snore escaping his lips. She smiled and tucked him in before standing and making her way towards the door. Someone coughed and she turned to see who it was.

"Neal!" She kept her voice low despite her surprise, watching to see if Peter had waken up but he remained asleep. Elizabeth approached the young man's bedside and sat down in the chair formerly taken by her husband. The young man looked at her curiously, eyes slightly dilated but still a stunning blue regardless. She took his hand in hers and smiled at him but it was obvious he didn't know her. His gaze turned towards the sofa and Peter off to his right. She held a finger to her lips then whispered.

"He's been watching you for three days. I finally made him sleep." The young man glanced at her with wide eyes, opening his mouth to reply.

"Thr...ee day...s?" She got up and walked a few feet away bringing him back a glass of water. Neal drank it thankfully.

"Tha...nkss... uhm..." She smiled sincerely at him.

"Elizabeth. I'm Peter's wife." He nodded at her continuing to sip the water till it was gone then handed the glass back to her. He looked a bit nervous, somewhat unsure of himself which seemed awkward for the normally overly confident young man. Elizabeth just smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"Peter told me what happened to you." Neal nodded at her his manner somewhat dejected suddenly as he pulled the blanket away enough to reveal his anklet.

"So you know... about this?" She looked at the anklet and nodded apologetically.

"Well... it may not sound like it now but it is for your best interests. Peter spent hours looking for you once he realized something was wrong. Even Hughes thought he was crazy to spend so many man hours looking for an ex... for you." She bit her tongue, blushing slightly.

"I've probably said more than I should." She was honest with him more so than any one person had been with him in a long time. Neal turned and looked at the sleeping agent then back at the woman and tried to remember what it was he had forgotten. 

_**"Neal, Did you need more ice? I'll get you more ice." **_**Elizabeth took the ice pack from his hand and walked away leaving him with Agent Burke. Neal had a splitting headache from something that had gone wrong but Peter had come for him. Helped him. He felt comfortable with the agent as if they were friends.**

The memory faded as quickly as it came to him but the idea of it remained this time. He turned to find her staring at him curiously, seemingly aware of his sudden insight.

"Neal... did you remember something?" Her voice was soft, motherly almost but there was more to it. He had the feeling they had shared a kind of friendship. He had the sudden urge to ask her something that had popped into his head.

"Elizabeth..." She interrupted him long enough to say: "Call me El." He nodded with a slight smile, continuing.

"I... do you have a dog? A golden retriever... sounds like a famous singer." She gawked at him and nodded with a barely contained delight.

"Yes... Satchmo. You remembered!" She squeezed his shoulder gently, only briefly looking over him at the sofa as she heard her husband mutter in his sleep.

"That wasn't a long nap. I'm surprised he can still be conscious after the hours he spent watching you." She stood and walked over to her husband's side and sat on the edge of the sofa.

"Peter, you awake?" She brushed a bit of hair from his face and he opened his eyes and looked up at her, bleary eyed.

"How long have I been asleep?" He sounded so exhausted still but she smiled and combed at his hair gently with her hand.

"Just a few minutes dear. Neal's awake if you want to speak with him." Peter's eyes blinked up at her and he nodded, sitting up wearily and peering over at the young man.

"Now only a few minutes, Peter. Then you have to rest." He nodded obediently to his wife as he stood and walked back over to the chair and sat down. Neal stiffened a bit as the agent approached him, his first instinct at seeing the Fed was to run but he couldn't go far in his current state. Peter noticed the anklet and gave a little sigh as he rubbed at his eyes and then looked directly at the young man.

"Feeling any better? They weren't sure when you would wake up but I wanted to be sure you saw a familiar face." Neal nodded at the agent unsure of how to respond. It was strange to have the man who had chased you for years suddenly buddy-buddy up to you as if you were the best of friends. Maybe he was hallucinating and would wake up next to Kate at their loft. Kate... he wondered why she wasn't here then realized Burke was waiting for him to answer.

"I'm good. Still feeling a bit sore. Head's a little fuzzy." Neal leaned back against the pillows and tried to think of something to say but he felt off his game. Burke patted his arm.

"Everything will come back to you. I just wonder who it was you were meeting that did this." He saw Peter hesitate asking more as Elizabeth gently squeezed his shoulder and whispered something in the agent's ear that almost sounded like: "_Stop interrogating him already._" Peter nodded with a slight shake of his head and stifled a yawn.

"Uhm, Neal... I wanted to ask you something." The young man gave a hesitant nod.

"Should I have a lawyer present for this?" He saw El shake her head with an encouraging smile, nudging her husband again as he looked reluctant to ask what he was going to ask.

"No, but I was wondering, what is the last thing you remember before you woke up? Well the other day." Neal glanced at the Fed, a thoughtful look on his face, brow furrowing slightly.

"The last thing? I... well I know you had just tried to catch me at that museum. I guess that's why you're here. You caught me obviously. I just wonder... is there some way I can make a phone call?" Peter blinked at the young man and nodded.

"Who did you want to call?" Peter pulled out his cell phone and handed it to the young man who just blinked at him back without answering.

"Thanks." Neal dialed a number and listened to the phone a moment. There was an obvious "_beeping_" from the cell. Neal frowned as he dialed the number again, listened to something that again sounding like "_beeping_" then handed the phone back to Agent Burke. Neal's expression had changed from confused to somewhat dejected as he leaned away from the agent and his wife, arms crossed over his chest defensively. The young man looked upset, Elizabeth nudging Peter slightly. The agent hung up the phone noting the number and looking a bit sorry for the young man as he realized what had happened.

"Neal... there's something you should know." Peter spoke gently noticing the young man close his eyes and roll over, away from the agent.

"I don't want to discuss it." Neal's voice was quiet, something like anger veiled within. Peter gave an audible sigh, turning to El who nudged him to go on.

"Neal... Kate isn't..." He didn't get to finish as the young man turned and glared at him with a fiery expression, sitting up with a wince, his body stiff in anger.

"Shut up... I don't want to hear it! She's gone because of you! You did this!" Neal's eyes flashed angrily at the agent, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Just... leave me alone!" The young man's eyes were shiny with tears as he continued to glare at Peter and even Elizabeth. Peter looked about to retort, an equally pained expression on his face, but his wife took his arm gently and pulled him away towards the door. As they exited, Neal heard one last word from the agent:

"I'm sorry..."

Neal lay there on his side facing the sofa and window, his expression dark and his thoughts even darker for what seemed forever. This was the Fed's fault. They had caught him, trapped him and now... they had somehow taken Kate from him. He felt a pain in his chest not associated with his physical injuries, his eyes warm with tears. He started to cry, face pushed deep into the pillow as he muffled the sound and tried to ease his pain.

_Why Kate?_ He felt a horrible emptiness inside of him, eating him till he felt he had no more hope left. They had made plans... things they were going to do... places to see... he had promised her and now...

"Where are you Kate? What did they tell you that made you disappear?" He muttered softly to himself, falling into an exhaustive sleep after a while.


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

**"**_**Kate, tell me who he is?**_**" Neal stood by the phone booth and spoke into the phone, tone desperate. She spoke back to him in a withdrawn, expressionless tone.**

"_**Neal, he wants something from you. The music box. Give it to him and I can come back to you.**_**" Neal heard a car horn blare and it was echoed in the phone. He looked around and up and saw her. She was just a level above him on the walkway. Their eyes met and Neal felt a sudden relief at seeing her, overcome with emotions.**

"_**Kate... don't move. I'll be right there!**_**" **

Neal woke up from the dream panting and covered in perspiration. He rolled back over to his back and stared up at the ceiling. Kate... she had left him. Disappeared! His thoughts turned dark, eyes squinting at the thought of something... Peter Burke. It was his fault! Neal pounded at the side of the bed with his clenched fists, stopping when he heard the door open.

An orderly stood in the doorway and peered around, their glance stopping to give Neal a once over before they entered the room and closed the door behind them. The man was huge even for an orderly, the sheer mass of the man and his expression making the hair on the back of Neal's neck rise. The orderly moved over to an adjoining door to the side of the main one and without taking his eyes off the young man opened it up. A figure stepped out of the entrance.

"Rathe?" Neal sat up as he saw a familiar face walk in through the side door. The man was dressed immaculately as he remembered him but he looked older for some reason. Neal rubbed at his eyes and smiled.

"How did you find out I was here?" Neal felt happy to see a familiar face, glancing at the goon in the orderly outfit cautiously. He noticed Rathe was quiet but then his friend was normally not very talkative.

"Neal... you didn't forget our unfinished business, did you?" His voice sounded different with a hint of menace in it which confused the young man.

"Business? We were looking for that collection weren't we? Why didn't Alex come with you?" Neal notice Rathe scratch at his chin with a curious look which turned into his usual charming smile.

"Yes... we were weren't we. The music box and all. We barely skipped out before the Feds caught us." Neal nodded back with a frown, revealing his anklet.

"They caught me. I don't know how but I woke up with this little accessory on my ankle. Any idea how to get it off without tripping it?" Rathe walked over and shook the young man's hand, giving the anklet a once over.

"Hmmm... not sure." Rathe scratched at his chin, taking a seat in the chair and looking the young man over with an intense curiosity.

"I'm just glad you came. Agent Burke's been pretending to be my friend. He even brought his wife to make himself seem more _sympathetic_ but I saw through his ruse. They have Kate. The phone was off the hook when I called. They've taken her somewhere. I know it!" Neal looked at the other man desperately.

"Help me find her, Rathe. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her." Rathe stared at the young man curiously, that smirking smile on his face.

"Of course, of course... Neal. Come along..." Rathe motioned to the goon who walked over, a wire cutter suddenly in his hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. Neal glanced at both as the huge figure grasped at the GPS unit, cut it briskly and almost as quickly taped it back up the light remaining green. The young man blinked as the anklet sat loosely on the nightstand. He noticed a huge smile on his friend's face.

"So... you need clothes I think?" Rathe handed the young man a set of green hospital scrubs and a long white lab coat.

"Well wait for you in the next room. Be quick!"

The goon and Rathe left as Neal pushed himself up to his feet unsteadily and started to change. He was in the scrubs fairly quickly despite his aches and pains and started to walk towards the side door when he heard voices outside. He paused momentarily to listen.

"No activity? Just wanted to see how he was doing. Agent Burke, FBI." Neal stiffened at the sound of the Fed's voice and tiptoed to the side door and closed it quietly. He nearly jumped at the light touch of a hand on his arm.

"It's just me, Neal. Relax... everything will be fine." Neal smiled at his friend and followed him through the neighboring empty room and out into the hallway. He only poked his head around briefly to see Peter Burke entering his room as the young man followed Rathe and the goon from the hospital.

Outside a limousine waited for the trio, a whistle of appreciation coming from Neal's lips as they exited the sliding doors of the hospital lobby. Rathe smiled.

"Shall we?" Neal nodded about to say more, when he paused, his head suddenly aching. Neal watched the goon slide into the vehicle ahead of him, this scene somewhat familiar. A memory flashed before his eyes as he fought the compulsion to be sick or faint: 

**Rathe pointed to the right. "**_**Shall we?**_**" Neal nodded following the other man through the brush and saw a few yards away a long dark limousine.**

"_**A limousine... You come prepared. You always did like the finer things.**_**" Rathe nodded, the door opening up as they approached.**

"_**After you...**_**" Neal looked at his friend and started in when he saw a gun pointed at his face from a large masked figure already inside the vehicle. The young man took a step back but felt someone blocking his escape. It was Rathe, his face not so nice now. The older man smirked cockily at the con.**

"_**Always so trusting, Caffrey. Shall we?**_**" Neal looked back at the masked gun man, his expression surprised but thoughtful despite his fear.**

Neal stood there staring at the open door of the limousine, swaying slightly on his feet and suddenly aware of the danger he was in. He kept his face down, crouching and grabbing at his chest as a distraction. He sensed Rathe standing over and behind him.

"Neal, what's the matter? I'm here to help you." He felt the man's hand on his shoulder and tried not to shrug it off despite his fear. His memory was returning, another flash of insight passing before his pain-hazed mind. 

**"**_**Trying to run... tsk... Neal. You should know better than that.**_**" The young man heard the cocking of a pistol and winced as he felt the metal pushed up against the back of his ear. Rathe breathed into the con's ear quietly but with a menacing air.**

"_**What Kate ever saw in you...**_**" Neal felt himself tense up angrily, trying to turn and fight but feeling his arms twisted back hard as he tried. Rathe pressed a knee on the back of his neck making the pain more unbearable, as Neal felt his arms tied securely behind him with what felt like plastic ties. The pressure was removed from his neck after a moment and he was pulled up by the collar and forced to his knees. Neal slumped, a hand grasping his chin and pulling his head up to meet Rathe's eyes. The young man gave a weak scowl which made the other man smirk.**

"_**Always defiant till the end.**_**" Rathe let go, standing up as strong hands dragged Neal to his feet and dragged him back to the limousine. The young man was pushed inside the vehicle by the masked gunman while Rathe closed the door. He heard another car door further up opened and closed indicating his **_**friend**_** was not sitting with him. Neal lay across one seat while the masked goon sat across from him, his attention more on his phone than the young con as the vehicle took off. **

Neal took a furtive look behind him as he collapsed to the ground and curled up in a _fetal_ position, groaning audibly. He had to keep acting sick to keep himself from getting into the vehicle. He saw Peter in the hospital lobby looking around and talking to a guard or police officer. Neal also watched Rathe looking worried and a bit embarrassed as he tried to figure out what to do with the young man and not cause a scene. The con smiled to himself, groaning again louder and hugging his chest more.

"The paiiin..." Rathe crouched beside the young man, touching him gently on the shoulder which initiated another loud groan from him. Rathe met eyes with the goon who stepped out of the vehicle and reached down to pull the young man in. Neal felt a cold fear creep over him as the huge man grasped his shoulder in a vice-like grip. He gave a quick glance over to the hospital entrance, Peter walking towards the doors and the limousine. Neal saw the doors slide open and Peter glance briefly towards him, their eyes meeting. It was only a moment because the goon saw the Fed aswell, pulling the young man into the car with Rathe climbing in quickly behind them. The limousine took off with a squeal of tires, Peter running after the vehicle till he had to stop. The last thing Neal saw was Peter on the cell, a worried look on his face as he watched the vehicle disappear down the road.

Neal remained in his feigned fetal position, lying on the floor of the vehicle and continuing to groan off and on. He heard Rathe and the goon, the latter he suspected of being the masked gunman from before, discussing him in harsh whispers.

"_The Fed saw us... what do we do?_" The goon sounded nervous, a small pistol in his hand now. Rathe held up a hand and smiled in his confident way.

"_You forget... no more anklet. We "leave" him somewhere and he won't be found for days if not longer._" The goon nodded their voices barely audible as Neal tried to hear. He gave another fake groan drawing their attention back to him. Rathe gave a dismissive motion of his hand as he spoke louder this time.

"Give him the shot. Maybe that will shut him up for now." Neal felt the goon's hands hold him down with little effort and push back his head so his neck was bared. It was over before he could think to fight back as the needle pierced his skin and a warmth filled him from head to toe. Whatever this was, he felt really good... really fast. Neal began to pant, breath slowing, pulse... heart all slowing down as the drug hit his system with a knock out punch. He felt a gloved hand brush at his hair.

"You were never a good actor, Neal..." The young man peered up with bleary eyes at his supposed _friend_. His tongue felt thick in his mouth but he managed to get one word out before everything went black: "_Bas...stard..._"

**(Sometime before...)**

Peter took a nice long nap despite his reservations and when he woke up a few hours later he felt alot better. Elizabeth had some coffee ready for him aswell as his favorite: a _deviled ham_ sandwich. The agent took a long sip of coffee but barely touched the sandwich, Elizabeth watching him as he seemed lost in thought.

"Peter, are you ok? You know he didn't mean what he said. He's confused." Peter nodded at her with a rather unhappy expression upon his face. All through his nap he had dreamed of Neal's accusation that he had taken Kate and hidden her away. It had hurt the first time it came around when the young con had connected a ring with the agent only to discover it wasn't Burke who was hiding her. This was different though... Neal no longer remembered the things Peter had done for him or tried to do for him. Without knowing that the agent had nothing but good intentions, the con was likely to turn back to his old ways and return to prison. Peter couldn't see that for Neal. The young man had too much potential for good to get turned around to the wrong side of the law again.

He took a bite out of his sandwich and chewed it over like a well worn piece of leather till Elizabeth coughed at him and he swallowed.

"Sorry, I guess this whole Neal thing has me worried. I wish I could have explained but maybe now... I'll go back and see if he's more receptive." His wife smiled and nodded.

"See what a little rest can do. Want me to go with you?" He shook his head and smiled.

"No but thank you." She walked over and hugged him, planting a small kiss on his cheek.

"He'll forgive you. I know he will. His memory will come back." He nodded, finishing up his sandwich and the coffee. Afterwards he pulled on his beige jacket, grabbed his ID and gun as an afterthought. He was technically on duty although he had requested some days off to check up on Caffrey.

"I'll call you when I'm done. I need to let June know how he's doing. I may stop at her place on the way back." He hugged his wife tightly and kissed her on the lips.

"I'll be back soon." She smiled and waved to him as he left.

It didn't take long to get to the hospital where Neal was staying. Peter parked and walked up through the sliding doors into the hospital lobby and straight through to the elevators and up to secure wing they had the young man on. Very few rooms were occupied for that reason, a guard outside the door to not only watch the young man but keep a monitor on him should he try to run in his current state.

Peter's report had been very clear on what was wrong with the young man so Hughes had insisted that there be a guard set up outside the room. Peter had omitted the gun from the report so the guard was more to keep Neal from _running_ more than as a precaution for his being dangerous. The gun had been the exception rather than the rule so Peter didn't feel bad about leaving it out of his report or wiping the prints off it and hiding it in the evidence lock up where it was sure to be overlooked without a tag on it to match it with any known case muchless Caffrey.

Peter walked up to the guard and smiled, holding up his ID. The guard stood and nodded stiffly. "No activity? Just wanted to see how he was doing. Agent Burke, FBI." The officer pointed at the door and sat down again as Peter headed inside. It was only a brief sound but he thought he had heard another door closing softly nearby but when he looked around he saw nothing. Burke entered the room and stopped short as the door shut behind him. The bed was empty, sheets strewn aside and the GPS unit green lit and sitting on the nightstand. Peter looked around only seeing one way in or out till he noticed the side door. He had been sleep deprived and only thinking about the young con's well-being when he had been here earlier so he hadn't even noticed the adjoining side door. He tried to pop it open but it appeared to be locked. Peter exited the room looking around, the police officer standing as he saw the Fed.

"Agent Burke, something wrong?" Peter nodded to the agent holding the GPS in his hand, the unit cut but duct taped back enough to keep the signal up.

"He's gone. Did you see or hear anything while I was in the room or before?" The officer shook his head and pulled his radio from his belt to give a call.

"I'll check the exits." Peter stopped before the next room one they knew had been empty. He opened it up and saw the side door slightly ajar that met with Neal's room, cursed and exited.

"He left through this room. See if we can get surveillance on this." The officer nodded at Peter looking around as another officer came by and they moved around searching for the young con.

Burke only stopped briefly at the exit to talk to one of the officers that showed up soon after. He was giving him a description of Neal along with the GPS for evidence before he started for the exit to look around outside. Peter had barely stepped through the sliding doors when he noticed the limousine and something else... Neal. The con was on the ground curled up into a fetal position but his eyes were clear and bright, a familiar expression making the agent realize the young man was asking for help. It was too late though as a well-dressed man and an orderly in white scrubs yanked the young man into the vehicle quickly and took off in a squeal of burnt rubber.

Peter ran after the vehicle till the end of the lot before he ran out of breath and couldn't keep up anymore. He stopped his pursuit, taking down the license and description of the vehicle, pulling out his cell and calling it in.

"Jones, this is Burke. I need you to put out an APB on a black limousine, possibly rented, with the plates _DTG978_. Also run Neal's picture if you can." He paused trying to catch his breath and to let the other agent reply.

"Yeah... thanks... and no he's not in trouble... but he might be in danger. Thanks." Peter hung up the phone and ran back to the lot and caught one of the officers to let them know what was going on and go give them the plates and info about the vehicle. He pulled out his cell again as it _buzzed_ in his pocket. He sprinted to his car and practically jumped in.

"Hi Elizabeth, I might be late." He nodded into the phone.

"Neal's been kidnapped from the hospital. I don't know what's going on but his anklet was removed. Yes... I'll find him. I promise. Love you." He hung up the phone tossing it on the seat beside him and drove out of the hospital lot and in the general direction he saw the limo go.

**(Realization)**

Neal's dreams were vivid under the influence of the drug Rathe's goon had given him. He struggled restlessly in the backseat of the limousine, his arms again bound securely behind him, a rag stuffed into his mouth and tape over his lips. 

_**He heard the cock of a gun and barely ducked behind a nearby dumpster, something dinging the side of the metal box loudly. Neal could just keep himself up in a half-crouch, his head swimming, hands still bound behind him, his balance just a bit off. He heard the goon coming closer, footsteps loud on the pavement. The young man pushed himself as far back behind the dumpster as he could, fighting on slipping his hands from the ties so he could defend himself.**_

He heard the cock of a gun from nearby as a shadow fell across his path. The goon stepped from around the dumpster's edge and moved forward quickly, grasping the young man by the hair and pulling him up. Neal winced as he was pushed up against the brick wall of the alley, the gun pushed against his temple, hammer cocked...

"Stop!" The masked goon turned at the sound of Rathe's voice.

"Bring him back. I'll figure out what to do with him." The goon nodded, uncocked the gun and swung the butt of the gun around to the young man's temple where he'd been grazed by the bullet. Neal staggered, eyes rolling back into his skull as he slumped against the huge man and passed out.**  
**

Neal's eyes opened slowly, the drugs making him feel so detached it was as if he were looking through a mask instead of his own eyes. He saw Rathe looking down at him, the man's voice distant and echoing oddly.

"_Hello, Neal... it will soon be over. Sleep for now._" He felt something pressed against his nose so that he couldn't breath. He struggled helplessly before everything went dark again.

**(Search and Rescue)**

Peter drove to Central Park, particularly the part he knew Neal tended to hang out in. He had a feeling that's where the young man had met the person in the nice duds that had been standing over him. His _friend_. The agent parked along the curve and practically ran from his car, loosening the strap from his gun under his jacket and glad he had decided to take it last minute. It didn't take long for him to make it to the pavilion he had often met June and the young con at. Jones was nearby waving to the agent and running over.

"Peter, we haven't found anything yet but I guess we had the same idea." Peter nodded and saw a few more agents wandering around who waved and continued their recon.

"If you see anything, phone me." Jones nodded and they split up with Peter wandering back behind a gazebo. He stopped to pick up something small that had been discarded and smiled slightly.

"Neal... you were here!" It was a small origami flower. He looked around noticing the brush behind the structure and heading through there to a small concrete drive where he saw a black limo parked. Peter paused and hid behind a shrub, checking the plates against what he had written down. It was the same car! The agent smiled about to call Jones and the other agents when he heard the cock of a gun and felt something sticking sharply in his back.

"Very slowly remove your weapon and hand it to me, Agent Burke." Peter did as he was instructed, the slightly European accent cold and menacing.

"Thank you. Now, walk forward to the limousine. No tricks please. I don't want to accidentally kill you before I need to." Peter stiffened and moved towards the vehicle as he saw the back door open and another figure roll out limply. He gasped but was held back by the gunman, gun stuck at the back of his neck.

"Take this!" The European accented man tossed Peter's gun to a huge man in white orderly scrubs, the same one he'd seen pulling Neal into the vehicle earlier. The man took the gun in his gloved hands and placed it in Neal's. The young con was barely conscious, a gag stuffed in his mouth, his head lolling between his shoulders loosely. There were marks on his wrists where he had been tied with something abrasive, bruises on his arms and neck.

Peter felt himself pushed to his knees by the European accented fellow as the goon helped Neal hold the gun and pointed it at Peter's head. The sound of movement behind the agent let him know the other gunman had moved aside.

"It's a shame Caffrey tried to escape and shot you in the process, but then you can't trust a con... can you?" Peter squinted back momentarily at the man who spoke, his eyes flashing with fury.

"He trusted you... you know that." Peter turned back towards the young man and the goon, face sober and accepting despite the obvious fear in his eyes.

"Neal... it's not your fault. You know I trust you. I hope if you remember anything... you'll remember that." He saw a tear roll down the young man's face, he thought, as he heard the goon cock the gun back and aim it at the agent's head. Peter closed his eyes and thought for a moment of Elizabeth.


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

Neal felt his bonds cut loose and was only vaguely aware of the sound of a car door opening and closing. Voices in low murmurs floated around him like the sounds of parents in a _Charlie Brown_ cartoon. His mind was still extremely hazy, the drugs and being nearly suffocated having weakened him considerably as he lay against the cool leather interior of the limousine. Despite all that he had started to remember things.

Neal knew that Agent Burke wasn't just the man who had chased and jailed him, but a good friend he worked with on consulting gigs for the FBI. Sure, he was technically on a work release program but Caffrey and the Fed had become close in their short association and he liked visiting with the agent's wife El who was one of the most fun and intelligent women he'd met in a long time. He smiled inwardly at the thought of hanging out and chatting with Mrs. Burke when he remembered his landlady June. She had taken him in when he had nowhere to go but a nasty little motel the government had put him up in. Peter had been so jealous of his digs at first but had come to like June, as Neal had, falling in love with not just the older woman's charms but her _Italian roast_. The thought made the young man feel warm. He had friends... true friends who cared and a home. It reminded him that he had thought Rathe was his friend although now he knew better. _Never trust a con_.

The thought of what Rathe had done to him made the young man restless with anger. He gave a low groan of pain as conscious came to him and his eyes opened to the dimly lit interior of the limousine. The goon peered out the window at something, reaching down to open the door as footsteps approached from somewhere outside. As the door opened up and sunlight blinded the young man suddenly, he was unceremoniously shoved out of the vehicle to the cement outside, the goon sliding down beside him. Neal squinted, vision blurry and unfocused. Two figures approached one taking a few reluctant steps forward but pulled back as they gasped audibly.

"Take this!" Neal saw Rathe toss a gun to the huge goon that crouched beside him. The huge man took the gun in his gloved hands and placed it in Neal's. The young con was barely conscious, a gag stuffed in his mouth, his head lolling between his shoulders loosely. He felt the cool metal of the pistol between his fingers and palm. Peter... what was he doing here? He saw Peter pushed to his knees by Rathe as the goon helped Neal hold the gun and pointed it at Peter's head. Rathe stood to one side behind the agent, gun held threateningly at the back of the Fed.

"It's a shame Caffrey tried to escape and shot you in the process but then you can't trust a con... can you?" Peter squinted back momentarily at the man who spoke, his eyes flashing with fury.

"He trusted you... you know that." Peter turned back towards the young man and the goon, face sober and accepting despite the obvious fear in his eyes.

"Neal... it's not your fault. You know I trust you. I hope if you remember anything... you'll remember that." Neal felt a tear roll down his face as he heard the goon cock the gun back with his hand still holding the gun limply and aim it at the agent's head. He watched the agent close his eyes waiting for the shot that would kill him.

_No! Not like this!_ After everything Peter had done to help him and keep him on the straight and narrow... it wouldn't end like _this_. Neal pushed feeling back into his _drug-numbed_ hands and with what little strength he could muster he gazed straight up at Rathe with a bright expression of fury. The man looked back smugly.

"Do it!"

Neal waited till the goon didn't expect it and that's when he yanked the gun upwards and pointed it straight at Rathe. It was sudden and unexpected, the gun went off with a sharp report that echoed around the park. Neal put a little more of his strength into it and the gun went flying out of both of their hands to the side and under the vehicle. The goon looked both scared and angry, smacking the young man with one of his huge hands. Neal lay stunned against the rough cement seeing Peter open his eyes and look around confused.

"Neal?" The agent seemed surprised he wasn't shot but it wouldn't last long. Rathe swayed dangerously behind the Fed, his face pale and a dark stain forming beneath his woolen coat.

"You..." the man hissed at Neal with his accented voice, pointing his gun down towards the back of Peter's head, face smirking. Neal couldn't move, his strength gone, watching in horror at the scene about to take place. _No... please God, don't let this happen! For Elizabeth's sake... please! _Neal was ready to faint, the sound of a gun going off as his vision blacked out. In the confusion and haze, he could hear voices. Lots of voices and the sound of someone falling to the ground. Tears rolled down his cheeks. _Peter... I'm sorry... Elizabeth... June..._

"Neal? Neal wake up!" Someone was shaking him gently, the tape and rag removed from his mouth, his head resting against a strong shoulder as he opened his eyes and looked up into Peter's eyes. The young man blinked thinking he must have died. Peter had been shot... hadn't he?

"I'm sorry... forgive me Peter." Neal croaked as the agent looked down at him with a confused smile.

"It's OK, Neal. Everything's OK. Jones got him." Neal blinked again, smiling back.

"Jones..." Neal's voice faded away and he was out like a light.

**(Reunion)**

"Shush... you'll wake him up!" He heard voices whispering around him quietly. They sounded happy, almost content. Perhaps he did die and go to heaven. He saw Peter didn't he? Maybe that last whack from the goon had been enough to make his concussion fatal. Neal felt warm, something heavy and comforting tucked around him like a cocoon. He felt safe, happy except for the thought of his friend being shot. His eyes felt wet and warm, his hand reaching up to wipe at them as he squinted in the dim light.

"I'm just glad he's safe. I was so worried about him. Thank you, Peter." June's voice carried over from across the room, drawing Neal further awake as he pushed himself back into consciousness. He dabbed at his eyes with the duvet on the bed, pushing himself up to his elbows to look around. He was back. Back in his old room. The room he leased from June, the nicest landlady ever and the coolest. He felt a smile on his face though it was far from content. His thoughts continued to think of his friend. Had he dreamed that Peter was ok? The gunshot had been real. He knew that much. Maybe he was dreaming now.

"June, he saved my life aswell. I... We owe him so much. I don't care what the rest of the agency says. Neal is a good person." It was a familiar voice speaking followed by another he definitely recognized.

"It's so nice to finally sit and chat with you. I can see why Neal dotes on you so much. I never got to properly thank you for letting us use your terrace a while back. Thank you June." It was Elizabeth's voice. She sounded happy... content.

Neal didn't know what to think. He had to be dreaming but he pushed the blankets aside and sat up. His head still throbbed a bit but he felt no worse than a bad hangover, pushing his feet over the edge of the bed and standing up. The world swayed a bit but he caught the wave and stood his ground. He pulled the robe hanging on the chair near the bed around him and toddled towards the voices on the terrace.

"Any friend of Neal's is... Neal?" June turned and glanced at him in surprise as did the other two occupants: Peter and Elizabeth. The young man leaned against the door frame a moment, catching his balance before stumbling forward. Peter got up from his wife's side and moved to help the young man to a chair. Neal slumped into the chair, grasping the agent's hand and looking up at him in surprise.

"Peter, you're..." He looked like he was surprised to see the agent. Peter smiled back at the young man and mussed his hair in a brotherly kind of way.

"Yeah... Thanks to you. I see you're feeling better?" Neal nodded, smiling brightly.

"Yeah... thanks to you." They both turned with a slight blush at the sound of Elizabeth and June making contentment noises.

"Look at that... they're friends again." Elizabeth and June said nearly simultaneous making Peter glance sideways at Neal in a "_Oh dear_" kind of manner. The young man just smirked a bit, motioning the agent closer.

"I'm sorry... for what I said about Kate." His voice was low enough that only Peter could hear. The agent nodded, squeezing the young man's shoulder gently.

"I forgive you... if you forgive me?" Neal blinked.

"Let's call it a draw." They both agreed to that, looking up to see the ladies glancing at them expectantly. Peter spoke through the side of his mouth where only Neal could hear.

"Uhm... do they expect us to hug or something?" Neal spoke back in a similar manner.

"We're guys. Guy's just sock each other in the shoulder and tell each other to _cowboy up_...right?"

**(The end)**


End file.
